


this love (left a permanent mark)

by JeanBoulet



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alec Lightwood Dies, Alec doesn't stay dead, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author hand-waving, Good Friend Catarina Loss, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Immortal Husbands, Immortality, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Magnus Bane Needs A Hug, Poisoning, Reincarnation, Time Skips, Vampire Isabelle Lightwood, lots of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29561565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanBoulet/pseuds/JeanBoulet
Summary: Alexander Gideon Lightwood-Bane died on a Tuesday.
Relationships: Magnus Bane & Catarina Loss, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Simon Lewis/Isabelle Lightwood
Comments: 21
Kudos: 110





	this love (left a permanent mark)

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE HEED THE TAGS! This story contains MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH and lots of heavy angst. It gets better in the end, but lots of main characters die since this happens over many decades. Lots of your faves will die and not all of them will come back.
> 
> SPOILERS are included in the end notes for anyone who wants to know who dies and who comes back.
> 
> Title is from "This Love" by Taylor Swift. Other tswift songs that inspired this (because folklore and evermore are a Mood):
> 
> right where you left me  
> cowboy like me  
> the lakes  
> exile  
> marjorie  
> august  
> 
> 
> A huge thank you to my beta [GideonGraystairs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GideonGraystairs/pseuds/GideonGraystairs) for editing this monster and making sure my plot made sense. You kept me sane and I'm forever grateful!
> 
> Many, MANY hugs to [EchoBleu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoBleu) for being my all-around cheerleader and handling my various nervous breakdowns over how to end this behemoth.
> 
> Hold on to something.

Alexander Gideon Lightwood-Bane died on a Tuesday. 

That morning was sunny and lovely in Alicante and Magnus had to trudge — portal — all the way back to Brooklyn. 

“I can’t believe this client,” Magnus groused. “I have to cross time zones again just because her cat knocked a potion off her counter — a potion that took me a month to make. A _month_ , Alexander.”

Alec chuckled and shook his head. “Just be glad you’re going to miss this stupid dinner.”

“Darling, nothing is stupid when I get to spend time with you.” Magnus gave a wry smile and kissed his husband’s cheek. 

“Don’t forget, you’re training Maxie tomorrow and I’ve got drills with Rafe,” Alec reminded him. 

Magnus hummed, pulling Alec close by the lapels on his suit jacket. “One of these days I’m going to drag you back to Spain. We’ll leave the children with Maryse and Luke and we can explore. Maybe go back to Sitges. Remember our honeymoon?”

Alec’s ears went red. “How can I forget? I don’t think that was actually a nude beach.”

“Details, shmetails.”

“Maybe we can all go? Everyone takes a turn watching the kids, and we can still take the boys and explore.”

Magnus laughed and summoned his portal. “I would love that, Alexander. I’ll be back tonight after your boring dinner and we can hash out the details. Best wishes, husband.”

Alec grinned. “I’m sure I’ll survive, husband.”

* * *

Memory is a funny thing.

Flashes of that day came back to Magnus from time to time. All he had were flashes, really. He’d moved as if in a fog from the moment he got the call.

Alec had been poisoned during his dinner meeting in Idris. It was just enough to incapacitate him so he couldn’t fight back when they cornered him in his office that night.

No one had gone with him to the dinner. Jace was home comforting an incredibly pregnant Clary, and Izzy and Simon were on a much deserved date night. Underhill and his team escorted Alec back to his office as usual, but the poison was slow-acting. By the time he’d realized his pain was something more than indigestion, he was surrounded. The others only realized something was wrong when Jace collapsed in pain, the poison seeping through the bond as his parabatai died. Alec had died alone. 

Magnus remembered seeing Alec’s lifeless body. He remembered seeing Jace struggling for his life as the poison wrecked his own body. He remembered Izzy’s numb explanation. They had called it an assassination, ordered and carried out by a radical few inside the highest level of leadership. Five men, meticulously hired and sent to kill Alec Lightwood. Five against one poisoned man, and he’d still taken two with him before they held him down and slit his throat. It seemed an idiotic way to go for a man that had survived ten times worse.

He remembered a Clave official who, in the hours after Alec’s death, told him there would be no trial, just an _internal investigation_. No one would know how deeply the corruption ran and the conspirators — the ones who _murdered_ his husband — would be quietly imprisoned.

They would _live_.

Magnus shattered their City of Glass. 

He razed the Clave to the ground. Even as he held the last conspirator by the throat and watched as flames consumed him, Magnus couldn’t bring himself to stop. By the time he collapsed to his knees from exhaustion, none of the Clave buildings in Alicante were left standing. No one had tried to stop him, tried to appeal to reason, tried to say to think of what Alec would want. 

Alec was dead. He couldn’t want anything. 

When Magnus resurfaced from his rage, Catarina was the only one who could touch him. She was the one that told him that Jace had survived the poison. She explained it had been designed to kill both of them, to seep through the parabatai bond. It was an assassination attempt on _both_ of them.

But _Jace_ had survived, and Alec...

Something inside Magnus had twisted up. Alec was gone, and resentment took his place. He didn’t remember talking to Jace once he’d recovered. Jace had apparently tried to apologize — for not being there, or for surviving, Magnus didn’t know — he said nothing in return. 

Memory is a funny thing.

He remembered going home to his children. He remembered them crying in his arms. He remembered Izzy coming to see him, to stay with him and the boys while Simon stayed with Clary and Jace. He remembered how broken she seemed. He remembered pouring a drink. And then another, and another. He didn’t remember much after that. 

The funeral was a grand affair. Magnus hated it. 

He didn’t remember much of that, either. People crying, offering their remorse like it was something that held any value. The only thing he did remember was the grip of Maryse’s arm around him. Magnus held Max to his chest and Rafe against his legs. He wouldn’t let anyone else touch them, but Maryse had tucked herself close to his side. 

The ceremony was a blur. After, Maryse and Izzy guided him through a portal and they were all home. Maryse stayed with the boys while Magnus and Izzy got blackout drunk again. 

When he woke up the next morning, something thrummed under his skin — and it wasn’t just the worst hangover he’d ever had. It was something he’d been sure wouldn’t happen for a long while. Magnus felt himself slipping. He felt something inside him start to fade. It was supposedly a myth, that some immortals who lost the will to live simply faded to nothing. Magnus knew it wasn’t a myth anymore. 

A small part of him wanted it to happen. Before he knew it, his feet carried him into Rafe’s room, where he, Max, and Maryse were all squeezed onto his bed. As he watched them, Magnus vowed then and there that his children would never know the pain of losing another parent. 

Magnus kissed his children and crept away silently to brew himself and Izzy a hangover cure. He promised himself it would be the last time he drank that much for grief. Alexander was gone. It happened earlier than expected, but Magnus had known this might happen. 

They’d only had fifteen years together. Fifteen beautiful, messy, short years. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. 

* * *

To say that Magnus had cut ties with the Clave after Alec’s death was putting it lightly. They had murdered his husband and tried to cover up their involvement.

The fact that Magnus had burned the corrupted Clave to the ground so that the new could rise in its place wouldn’t change anything. It didn’t bring Alec back. He’d never forget what they had done to him, to his family — to Alec.

Memory is a funny thing.

The new leadership tried to contact him in the months after to apologize — _apologize_ — for their part, but Magnus wouldn’t hear any of it, even from the new Inquisitor, Lydia Branwell. 

After the funeral, Magnus took Max and Rafe and disappeared. He and the boys settled in a small town outside Kyoto, but only Catarina, Izzy, Simon, and Maryse knew how to find him. Jace and Clary tried to fire call him a few times, tried to integrate him back into their lives. Their messages were always ignored. He didn’t need the constant reminder that Jace had survived the attack, and Alec hadn’t. Eventually, the messages stopped coming.

His boys flourished in Japan. Izzy was essential in Rafe’s training. Despite everything, he was still a Shadowhunter, and Magnus knew he needed to be trained. Izzy took Rafe back to the New York Institute with her until he was old enough to travel himself. Then, he attended classes at the Tokyo institute. Max grew stronger and wiser with every passing day. He loved the warlock community in Japan, and Catarina and Madzie visited often enough that he never grew bored. 

Izzy visited, but Magnus could see the years wearing on her with every passing day. After stepping down as head of the New York Institute, she was pale, unhealthy. According to Simon, she was taking more and more solo missions. She was being reckless. Magnus had asked her point blank one day about _yin fen_. She had scowled at him and told him she wasn’t that stupid. Magnus told Simon to keep a closer eye on her, all the same. 

About eighteen months after Alec’s death, Isabelle Lightwood walked into a vampire nest alone. She didn’t come out alive. 

* * *

Magnus agreed to join the search only when Simon called him, frantic and lost. Isabelle had left for a solo patrol to a known rogue vampire nest and hadn’t been seen in three days. 

He and Simon had been the ones to find her. She was covered in blood that was mostly not her own. Her skin was practically caked over with dirt. She wasn’t alive. But she was a vampire. 

The choice had been taken from her. The coven that had overwhelmed her had thought it was a brilliant idea to turn the great Isabelle Lightwood into a vampire. She’d been buried in consecrated ground and fed blood from a bag. By the time Simon and Magnus found her, she’d repaid her captors by killing the entire coven. She was practically catatonic until Simon touched her, and then she’d just pulled them both close and cried. 

Magnus took them to the New York institute on autopilot. Jace and Clary immediately swooped in. Simon explained what had happened while Magnus stood quietly by, Izzy clutching his hand for dear life. 

Predictably, Jace suggested Izzy be allowed to die if she wanted. Clary and Simon were both horrified and Magnus was decidedly done with being near Shadowhunters again. He turned in his chair to look at where Izzy lay silent and numb on the bed beside him. 

“Is that what you want?” He asked her over the squabble. “You could finally rest. Get rid of those perpetual bags under your eyes.”

His dry humor hit its mark, and Izzy chuckled. “No dark circles in heaven? That’s a major selling point.”

Magnus knew he didn’t have to tell her that heaven wasn’t exactly where she would go. He could see it on her face, in her distant eyes. 

“I don’t want to be anywhere that he isn’t.” Izzy said quietly, and he knew she wasn’t talking about Simon in that moment. “None of them will be there. Jace and Clary. Mom, Luke... I’ll be alone.” She looked up at Magnus, tears shining in her eyes. “I don’t want to be alone, Magnus.” Her grip on his hand was painful, a testament to her new strength. 

“You won’t be alone.” Magnus promised her. 

* * *

Overall, the next hundred years were kind to Magnus. 

Rafe had ultimately returned to the Clave when he was older, but Magnus didn’t blame him for it. He’d spent his whole life as a Shadowhunter. Magnus knew better than anyone that he’d never be anything else. Rafe eventually grew in power to head the New York Institute, ushering in a renewed sense of brotherhood and inclusion with the Downworld. He fell in love. He had a family. Magnus had been so proud. He knew Alec would have been, too. 

The deaths still got to him, but Alec’s death had been a sober reminder of fragile mortality. 

Maryse went first, about twenty-five years after Alec. Her funeral was quiet. It was also the first and last time Magnus saw Jace and Clary after Izzy’s turning. Clary offered him a warm smile, but Jace kept his distance. Magnus was grateful for it. He couldn’t help but admire their beautiful family. Two girls and a boy, whom Izzy said was named Alexander Jonathan. AJ for short. 

Magnus loitered at the grave after the service. He said nothing at first, just offered his silent thanks for her resilience. Then, before he left, he touched the freshly laid earth and murmured, “Tell him I say hello.”

Predictably, Clary and Jace’s death hit Izzy and Simon the hardest. They passed within a week of each other. Clary first, then Jace. Despite the bitter resentment he still held, Magnus went to their funeral. Mostly as support for Izzy and Simon, but Rafe and Max could have handled that. Magnus wanted to pay his respects. 

Catarina stood with him off to the side, away from the rest of the family. No one questioned his distance. 

He and Catarina took Izzy and Simon back to their home in New York, and they all drank wine. They sat mostly in silence until Izzy started to tell an embarrassing story about Jace. Simon joined in, sharing something about Clary. They laughed and they cried, but they did it together. It was one of the best days Magnus had had since Alec’s death. 

A few more decades passed. Luke. Lydia. Max Lightwood. Then, the day Magnus had been dreading the most arrived. 

After retirement, Rafe had lived out the rest of his life in relative quiet, save the occasional mother hennings from Max and Magnus. He was sick more often than not in his later years. Magnus and Max were with him when his wife passed. Rafe’s mind was in and out by that point. 

Memory is a funny thing. 

“I saw Dad,” Rafe said to Magnus one day. He was in his hospital bed at the Tokyo Institute as Magnus sat nearby. The Silent Brothers had told him it wouldn’t be long now. 

Magnus smiled and set aside his book, moving closer to hold his son’s hand. The doctors had said Rafe might see things as he neared the end. “Did you? That must have been nice.”

“He came last night, while you were asleep.” Rafe told him, and Magnus would have thought that he was perfectly lucid other than the delusions. “He hates that he can’t see you. He misses you so much.”

“I miss him too, poppet.” Magnus had to fight to keep the smile on his face as he swallowed around his grief. “You’ll see him soon, I’m sure. You can tell him how much I love him.”

Rafe shook his head. “No, I’m not going to see him. He’s leaving soon.”

Magnus frowned and studied him. “Leaving?” 

“Yeah. He came to tell me goodbye. He said he was sorry he couldn’t stay, but he needed to get back to you.” Rafe patted Magnus’ hand. “I told him not to worry. You’ll tell him hello for me, won’t you?”

“Rafael,” Magnus began gently. “Alec is gone. He’s not coming back—“

“Aku cinta kamu.” Rafe said the words with a knowing smile, though he could not possibly have known them. The shock must have shown on Magnus’ face because Rafe squeezed his hands in comfort. “He said to wait for him, Papa. Wait, and don’t blame yourself for what’s to come.”

Magnus just stared at him as he settled down into his bed and closed his eyes. Within moments, Rafe was asleep, and Magnus knew he probably wouldn’t remember his own words when he woke. 

For the life of him, Magnus couldn’t imagine what Rafe meant. There was a part of him that hoped... hoped for something that could never happen. He resolved not to mention Rafe’s words to anyone, not even Catarina or Madzie, and especially not to Max. There was no reason to worry anyone. 

Of course, after Rafe fell asleep, a shadow beyond the door moved, and Izzy stepped into the room. Magnus knew in a second she had heard Rafael’s words. He gave her a stern look and shook his head, getting up from his seat so they wouldn’t disturb his son with their conversation. 

“Magnus,” Izzy said urgently when the door was closed. “What did he mean, Alec is leaving? He’s leaving heaven?”

“It was the ramblings of an old man who is close to death,” Magnus said firmly. “I wouldn’t take much stock in it.”

“Nephilim on the other side can appear to Nephilim on this plane. What if he actually saw—“

“Enough.” Magnus snapped, and the hurt on Izzy’s face made him regret it instantly. “Isabelle, how would he even come back? The Angels would never allow a Nephilim to return for a Downworlder. Leave this alone.”

“But Magnus—“

Now he did not care if he hurt her feelings. “My son is dying and my husband is dead. I’ve moved on, Isabelle. It’s time you stopped clinging to mortality.” It was a low blow, worse than he’d ever dealt to her before. Magnus didn’t wait for her to leave before he went back to his son’s bedside. 

Rafael Lightwood-Bane died surrounded by his father, brother, and his own children and grandchildren. That had been about forty years ago, and it had been the last time Magnus had seen Izzy or Simon. It was also the last time he willingly saw a Shadowhunter or envoy of the Clave.

* * *

“What’s wrong, Blueberry?” 

Max seemed far away, lost in his own memory. He startled back to himself, causing Magnus to frown. He set down his teacup and reached out to cover Max’s hand with his own. They were having brunch outdoors in Magnus’ favorite part of Paris, so Max’s normally blue skin was glamoured to resemble Magnus’ own. 

“Now you have me worried. What’s going on in that big brain of yours?”

Max hesitated. “Papa, I think... I think I might be going insane.”

Magnus had learned a long time ago that Max’s warlock powers had a tendency to be intense and reality-altering, so he knew not to placate his son with false securities. “Why is that?”

“I think I saw Dad.”

Magnus hesitated. “Max—“

“I know you think it’s impossible—“

“No, Max,” he reassured his son. “This happens every few generations. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen a Lightwood or Trueblood boy with an uncanny resemblance to him.” 

“This didn’t look like a descendant.” Max insisted. “He...He looked exactly like Dad. It’s been years, but I know what my father looks like, and this was an exact copy. Besides, he didn’t have any runes and he couldn’t be a Shadowhunter.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because...he opened a portal. I saw him do it himself, with his own magic.”

Magnus sat back in his chair, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind. “Could it have been a glamour?”

Max shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe? But Papa, he saw me. He saw me watching him and portalled away before I could say anything.”

“A warlock with Alec’s face? It makes no sense, Max, it has to have been a glamour.”

“I know,” Max said, and Magnus hadn’t heard him so defeated since Rafe’s death. “I know it shouldn’t be possible, but Papa... I just know it was him. I felt it.”

The hope in his voice made Magnus’ heart sting. Magnus had lived almost six hundred years. He’d seen civilizations rise and fall, and outside of a very small few, he’d outlived everyone he had ever truly loved. Max was barely past his first hundred. He still made friends with mortals, got attached. He’d been more sentimental since Rafe’s death, like he was clinging to every precious moment. And now, he’d seen what Magnus considered to be a very convincing replica of a man that had raised him, called him his son. Magnus could see the conflict in him, and knew what he needed to do. 

“I’ll reach out to Simon.” He offered. “See if the Clave or the Downworld Council knows anything about it.” 

Max’s face flooded with relief. “Thank you, Papa.”

“Where was it you said you saw him?”

“It was a small village outside Barcelona.”

Magnus paused. Barcelona. It tickled some memory inside him, but he couldn’t quite place it. “What were you doing down there?”

“I have an older client that I visit on occasion. I saw him at an outdoor market. We just...stood there, looking at each other. Before I knew it, he’d jumped through a portal.” Max was holding back his tears, but Magnus could hear them in his voice. 

It was at the periphery of Magnus’ memory. He couldn’t quite place it, but he was forgetting something. 

Memory is a funny thing.

“Papa?”

Max must have noticed his distraction. Magnus’ eyes refocused and he put on a practiced smile. “It’s nothing, Blueberry.” He covered Max’s hands with his own. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.”

Max didn’t look so sure. Magnus couldn’t say he was so sure, either. 

* * *

When he finished up lunch with Max, Magnus sent a fire message to Simon, asking to meet. Simon responded almost immediately with an affirmative, so Magnus portalled to a nearby park and opened another portal for Simon. 

The vampire stepped out into the park with a big, familiar grin on his face. “Magnus! It’s so good to see you, buddy, how’ve you been?”

“Simon,” Magnus regarded him with a tight smile. “This isn’t a social call, I’m afraid.”

“‘I’m doing great, Simon, thanks for asking’. ‘Thanks for dropping everything and stepping blindly through a portal to come meet me in another country even though we haven’t spoken in like four decades’,” Simon snarked at him. “You could at least pretend you’re happy to see me. It’s been awhile.”

“Oh I’m sorry, did you want to engage in small talk? How’s your sister doing?” Magnus sniped. It was a low blow, and they both knew it. 

“Well she died, but you knew that since Max and Madzie came to the funeral.” Simon shot back, sounding nonplussed. “Her kids are great, though, and I even have grandnieces and nephews. Wanna see pictures?”

Magnus glared at him, but it didn’t seem to deter the vampire. Finally, he relented. “How is Isabelle?”

Simon broke out into that brilliant grin again. Magnus knew when to admit defeat, and that smile never failed to do him in. “She’s good. Gotta tell you, I had to fight to keep her from coming with me. She wants to see you.” He held up his hands, like he was afraid he would scare Magnus off. “But she knows you need your space. She won’t tell me what happened between the two of you. Not that I mind, she’d never betray your trust and I’d never ask her to. It’s not a big deal.”

If there was one thing Magnus was convinced would never change, it was Simon’s ability to talk a mile a minute. “Stop worrying, Sheldon, you’ll pull something.” Simon smiled again at the nickname. “As it happens, I need to speak to you alone before I bother Isabelle.”

“Well that’s not worrying at all.”

Magnus steeled himself. He actually hadn’t thought about saying the words yet. “Max saw a warlock with Alec’s face.”

Simon’s eyes widened. “What? How is that possible?”

“It shouldn’t be. Have you heard anything, seen anything?”

“No,” Simon shook his head. “Could it be reanimation? Like invasion of the body snatchers or something?”

“We had a Shadowhunter funeral. There’s no chance of that.” It was why Magnus had agreed to the arrangements. He knew it was a possibility that someone might take control of Alec’s body, and Alec wouldn’t have wanted to risk that. 

“What do you think it is?” Magnus looked up and saw Simon looking at him, knew that Simon could see the wheels turning in his head. 

“Even though Max didn’t have any children before his death, it could be a Trueblood descendent. Maryse’s siblings had many children, and they’re likely to have spawned at least one lookalike.”

“But?”

Magnus sighed. “It’s Maxie. My Max. He thinks he saw Alexander, and...”

“You believe him.”

“I’ve learned never to question Max’s resolve.”

Simon smiled fondly. “Yeah, Blueberry’s usually right. So what are you going to do? If it really is him?”

“It’s not him,” Magnus said firmly. “His soul is at rest, as it should be. No, a glamour is the simplest explanation. Someone is using my husband’s face, and I’m going to find out why.” There were plenty of reasons to impersonate a Shadowhunter and Downworld hero like Alec Lightwood-Bane, and none of them were good. 

“What if—“ Simon hesitated, biting his lip. 

“Spit it out, Sherwin.”

“I’m just saying, what if his soul isn’t at rest?” Magnus rolled his eyes, but Simon kept going. “Look, you’re right, an imposter is the simplest explanation but — Magnus when has _anything_ with you two ever been simple?”

The memory of Rafe’s words sat at the back of Magnus’ mind. He wanted to ignore them, dismiss them as the ramblings of a frayed mind, exactly as he had told Izzy, but they kept niggling at him. He tried to push them aside. 

“Then what, pray tell, are you implying?” Magnus challenged. “That my husband is miraculously back from the dead and he saw his son again and ran from him?”

“I don’t know, okay? But maybe we could talk to someone who does?”

Magnus let his face go carefully blank. “No.”

“Magnus please, you know that we need to talk to a Nephilim, and we know a few that could help. Jace answers sometimes—“

Magnus lifted his arms to form a portal. “I’m not having this conversation—“

“You can’t keep blaming him for surviving.”

Everything stopped. 

Except Simon’s mouth, of course. 

“Jace wished he hadn’t survived, did you know that? But they got to Alec first. It’s not Jace’s fault the Silent Brothers saved him, and you can’t be mad at him for moving on.”

Magnus had ignored all of Jace and Clary’s attempts to contact him over the years, even into their old age. He supposed Simon was right. He blamed Jace for surviving when his parabatai didn’t. 

Magnus had seen their children at the funeral. Izzy and Simon were obviously very close to them, but Magnus didn’t know anything about them. He doubted they even knew he existed. 

He wanted to keep it that way. 

“I won’t bother anyone else with what is a very simple case of mistaken identity.” 

Simon sighed in obvious frustration, but he relented. “You should reach out to Madzie, at the very least. I’m surprised you reached out to me before her.”

Magnus waved him off. “I didn’t want to worry her. She has a lot on her plate.”

Simon snorted. “I think the High Warlock of Brooklyn would want to know about a rogue warlock that might appear in her territory.”

“Why yes, Simon, I believe she would.”

Magnus sighed when he heard the voice behind him. He turned with a dazzling smile. 

“Sweetpea! What a lovely surprise.”

Madzie crossed her arms and tilted her head in a way that made it very clear that Magnus was not getting out of this. “Something you were going to tell me, Uncle Magnus?”

“Darling before you get mad—“

“Oh, we’re beyond that now.”

“—I really was going to contact you later, but I didn’t want to worry you for no reason,” Magnus placated. “Maxie saw him in Spain, there’s no evidence that he’s even close to your territory.”

“It involves _Alec_ , Magnus. That’s plenty enough reason to worry.”

“As I was telling Samuel, it’s probably a glamour. I’ll track down the culprit, throttle him a little, and that will be that.”

“Then let’s figure it out together.” Madzie’s big brown eyes were simply too much for anyone to resist, and she knew it. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

There was no use arguing with her. Besides, some part of Magnus knew that he’d eventually have to ask for her help. He valued her companionship above anything else. 

“Slim, let Cat know where we are, will you? We’ll need a third warlock for the spell I’m thinking of.” He summoned a portal for Simon but held him back with an arm across his chest. “And Simon,” he added. “Do _not_ tell Isabelle.”

* * *

But it was Simon. So by the time Magnus had sent him through a portal back to New York and he and Madzie stepped through their own portal to his apartment in Kyoto, Magnus wasn’t surprised to feel an intruder banging against his wards. He and Madzie had just started gathering ingredients for the spell when the banging started. 

“You’re going to have to let her in at some point.” Madzie said from the library. 

“It’s three in the morning. Maybe if we wait her out for a few hours she’ll leave before first light.”

Madzie guffawed. “She became a Daylighter _ages_ ago. You really want to try your luck?”

Magnus grumbled. No, he really didn’t. He reluctantly tweaked his wards ever so slightly and felt the intruder enter the flat. Madzie went to the door to let her in. 

Isabelle Lightwood was as radiant as ever. Vampirism hadn’t slowed her down in the slightest. They hadn’t spoken directly or seen each other for over forty years, but now she stood in his living room. Madzie hugged her and gave Magnus a pointed look before leaving them alone. 

“Magnus,” she greeted, her tone quiet and polite. That was how Magnus knew she was mad as a harpy. 

“Isabelle.” He had his back to her as he fiddled with a few potions, which no doubt annoyed her even more. “How long did it take dear Silas to crack? Five minutes? Ten?”

“Seven.”

“Well done.”

“Cut the bullshit, Magnus. You were going to make Simon hide this from me while you poked around for answers.”

“Because this is just a glamour,” Magnus said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “There was no reason to get you involved.”

“What if you’re wrong?” Isabelle challenged. “What about what Rafe said? Have you even _thought_ of the alternatives, or are you just going to hide from it all over again?”

Magnus stopped fiddling with the potion ingredients. “ _Honestly_ , Isabelle?” He knew he had to hold himself back from doing anything stupid, but Isabelle Lightwood was really trying his patience. “ _Have I thought of the alternatives_?” He clenched his jaw and slowly turned to face her. “If Simon is right, and Alexander’s soul is _not_ at rest? He could be on this plane, his soul trapped for the past century and never finding peace. It could have been consumed by a demon. It could be shoved into a body and tortured simply for being my husband. But those are just the pleasant scenarios.” 

Magnus saw the clench of Isabelle’s jaw and the tears in her eyes, but it didn’t slow him down. “If they put him in a demonic body, they could twist his soul and damn him to eternal Hell. Do you think I haven’t thought of every single scenario? This isn’t some fantasy world where souls have no value, Isabelle. Alec’s soul is _priceless_ to the right people, so don’t stand there and tell me I haven’t thought through this because clearly _you_ haven’t.”

Magnus was tense as a brick wall by the time he finally paused. He knew his glamour had dropped, could feel the fire that crackled in his palms. The look of hopelessness on Isabelle’s face was something Alec would chastise him for. But Alec was gone. 

“I have thought of... _every_ scenario imaginable. Do not berate me for wishing, hoping — _praying_ — for the simple, painless answer.”

“So let’s summon his soul.”

Madzie’s words drew both Magnus and Izzy’s eyes back to her, as if acknowledging her for the first time. 

“You can do that?” Izzy asked. 

“I can’t,” Madzie admitted. “But he can.” She gestured to Magnus. “It’s the spell you had in mind, isn’t it?”

Magnus hesitated. “It’s dark magic, anything could go wrong—“

“That’s not an answer.” Madzie set down the book she was holding and went to Magnus, clasping his hands. “Magnus, this is Alec’s soul. If this spell will give you some peace of mind, we need to do it.”

“You won’t be alone,” Cat’s voice sounded from across the room. Magnus hadn’t even noticed her portal inside, but he was grateful to see her. “We’ll be with you, Magnus. Always.”

Magnus felt something release inside him, like a tremendous weight being lifted from his shoulders. They’d stay with him. They would figure this out, all of them. 

With a shaky nod, Magnus started handing out orders to gather what they would need for the spell. Izzy stayed a comfortable distance away, letting the warlocks work. Magnus lifted a thin chain from his neck and stared at the ring hanging from it. He felt tears prick at his eyes and steadied his shaking hand. He looked up to see Cat watching him. 

“We only get one shot at this,” she pointed out. “Are you ready?”

Magnus gritted his teeth. “To see my husband again? Oh yes. To see him for the last time? I...” he hesitated, dropping his head. “I have to be.”

Izzy made a questioning noise and Madzie jumped in to explain. “Nephilim souls will only appear to a Downworlder once. After that, the angels won’t let them appear. We have a loophole, but we only get to use it once.”

At Izzy’s carefully neutral face, Magnus suddenly realized that this would be her only chance to see her brother again. “You should be sure about this, too.” He told her. 

She took a moment to steel herself before saying, “I don’t believe this is the last time I’ll see my brother.”

Magnus knew he’d hurt her with his words enough today, so he kept himself from saying that he genuinely hoped she was wrong. Instead, he just nodded and went back to preparing for the spell. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


The spell went perfectly, until it didn’t. 

Magnus said all the right words. He held Alexander’s wedding ring in his hands. He channeled the power from Madzie and Cat. He knew that the spell had been performed properly. But there was nothing.

Alec’s soul did not appear. 

Red hot fury coiled in Magnus’ veins, replacing the icy sadness and fear in his gut. His anger and fear boiled over and hot tears spilled from his eyes. He cursed and slammed his fists down on the table. 

“We’ll get him back, Magnus.” Cat said, but her soothing words couldn’t quell his rage. It was like losing Alexander all over again. 

“Try again.”

All three warlocks turned to Izzy. It seemed despite her earlier confidence, she didn’t want to give up either. “Try again, but use my blood. That should be stronger, right?” 

“Isabelle—“

“At least you’ll know,” Izzy said stubbornly. “You’ll know that his soul is gone and then we can work on finding it. Try again, Magnus.”

The determination in her eyes was what convinced him. He nodded and they prepared the spell again. This time, Magnus gave Izzy a knife and she cut her palm, squeezing her blood over Alec’s ring and into the bowl. 

This time when Magnus said the words, pooled the power between them, he felt it working. Relief flooded through him because it was working, it _worked_ —

“Hello, Magnus.”

But Alec was not the Lightwood that appeared. 

“Maryse.” The words tumbled from him like stone. 

“Mom?” Izzy’s voice was weak and she stifled a sob when Maryse nodded and opened her arms. Izzy ran to her mother and they embraced for a long moment. 

Magnus took that time to organize his thoughts. The spell had failed again, which could only mean one thing. 

“He’s gone, isn’t he?” The words were ashen in his mouth. 

Maryse looked at him with sadness and pity in her eyes, and Magnus had to look away from her. “Yes. But not in the way you think.”

Magnus scoffed. “His soul is either at rest or it isn’t. Don’t speak in riddles to me, Maryse. Not about this.”

“He was murdered, Magnus,” she responded bluntly. “My son was never at rest. He would have given anything to be with you and his boys again. Anything.”

Her words set Magnus on edge. “Why are you here? Why you and not him?”

“Someone had to tell you. I wanted it to be me.”

Magnus clenched his jaw. “Then tell me.”

“He waited. He waited for so long, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He saw an opportunity to be with you, and he took it.” She was fighting back tears, but she was smiling. She looked... happy. 

Magnus processed her words and frowned. “What you’re talking about can’t be done,” he said sharply. “The angels would never allow it.”

“Allow what?” Izzy asked, her eyes darting between them. 

“They allowed him to make a choice,” Maryse corrected. “But it wasn’t done out of benevolence. They don’t care what happens to my son, but I do.“

“You’re not making any sense, Maryse—”

“Alec saw an opportunity to be reincarnated and he took it.”

Izzy gasped, but Magnus knew better. He just shook his head. “He _can’t_ be reincarnated,” he insisted. “It goes against every divine law in existence. He’d have to—“ Magnus choked on his next words. 

No. 

_No._

“He’d have to be reborn without the blessing of the angels,” Cat finished, her voice wooden with shock. “He couldn’t be a Shadowhunter anymore, or even a mundane.”

“What does that _mean_?” Izzy demanded. 

“It means,” Maryse cut in to explain. “Alec was reincarnated, but not as a Nephilim. As a warlock.”

The room was completely silent as the group took in the gravity of the situation. 

“I don’t understand,” Magnus muttered through gritted teeth. “Why would he do something like this? How could he be so reckless?”

“He wanted this, Magnus,” Maryse said gently. “He knew what it would cost him, and he did it anyway.”

“What cost?” Izzy had approached Magnus slowly, noticing the warlock was struggling to keep his composure. 

Madzie was the one that finally answered her. “He wouldn’t remember anything. Not without a proper trigger, at least. There was no guarantee that Magnus would actually find him, and even then—“ she stopped herself. 

“Even then, he might not want to remember,” Magnus forced himself to say. “This is quite literally another lifetime. Things can...change.” Alexander could want nothing to do with him. The thought made Magnus’ stomach turn. 

“Alec knew what he wanted,” Maryse insisted. “We both felt it happening — a new vessel, a rare opportunity...” She focused on Magnus, moving towards him. “Despite what you may think, he knew. He knew the life that waited for him. He knew he would likely grow up without you, without any memory of his past self. He knew it was a million to one that you would find him, but he took that chance.” 

When she was close enough, Maryse held Magnus’ face in her hands. “The angels told him there was no guarantee you would find each other, that he couldn’t bet on you being around long enough or that even if you found him, you wouldn’t be enough to wake his memories.” She gave him a watery smile. “He said he’d bet on you any day.”

Every emotion he’d been feeling, everything Magnus had pushed down — rage, sadness, despair, helplessness, _hope_ — it came roaring through him in one terrible moment. He let out a sob and collapsed against Maryse. She and Izzy held him as he shook, and Cat and Madzie each put a hand on his back as he cried through his pain. 

“How long?” Magnus croaked, his voice cracked and splintered. How long had he been alone? Without Magnus, without the love of his true family.

“He was born forty years ago.”

All the breath left Magnus at once. Forty years? A blink, for an immortal, but for a fledgling warlock? Those were the most formative years of Magnus’ life. He’d done...unspeakable things in his first century, fueled by rage and sorrow and loneliness. 

He’d left Alec to go through it without him. And why? Because he hadn’t taken the words of his own son seriously. Stupid. Stupidstupidstupid—

He yanked himself away from Maryse, but Izzy followed him, clung to him. “Remember what Rafe said,” Izzy’s voice cut through the spiral of Magnus’ thoughts. “Alec didn’t want you to blame yourself.” She was still holding onto him, pressed to his side. She had every right to say ‘I told you so’. She didn’t, because it didn’t matter. Only one thing mattered. 

Alec was alive. 

But he wasn’t Alec. At least, not yet. Some dark part of Magnus whispered that he might never be Alec again. There was no telling what this warlock — what this boy had gone through. 

“I tried to get a message to you, but the Angels forbade it.” Maryse’s eyes were wet with unshed tears as she faced him, but she never let herself crumble. “As soon as his soul left, I… I couldn’t see him. I lost him all over again.” Her words caught in her throat. Magnus had never seen her so conflicted, so desperate. It spurred something inside him to act. “Please. You have to find him.”

Magnus pushed himself to his feet and went to her, hugging her as tightly as he could. “I will,” he replied without hesitation. “You have my word, Maryse. I promise I will find him.”

She nodded against his shoulder and Magnus could feel the wetness of her tears through his shirt. “I know you will.” There was something else in her voice, a palpable sadness that told Magnus she didn’t have much longer. 

Magnus pulled back and gave her a reassuring smile that she returned, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. He stepped back to let Izzy give her mother one last embrace.

Maryse Lightwood spoke to her daughter quietly for just a few more minutes before she blinked out of existence.

Isabelle took a moment to gather herself before turning around. She had her brave face on that betrayed nothing. “How are we going to find my brother?”

Catarina locked eyes with Magnus. “We have to take our next steps very carefully. There’s no telling what kind of power we’re dealing with.”

“Besides that, we have to consider...” Madzie started, like she knew the weight of her words. “No matter how much we want this to be Alec, it’s not him. Not really.”

“This is _my brother_ we’re talking about,” Izzy said sharply.

“It might not be,” Catarina cut in. “Your mother said it: Alec was murdered. This warlock may have his soul, but until his memories return, he is _not_ your brother.”

“Then we’d better get him his memories back,” Isabelle answered, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “My brother did this so that we would find him. So let’s do it.”

Magnus brought a hand up to rest on her shoulder and they exchanged a meaningful look. “Isabelle is right. We have to act quickly. We lost forty years, and I don’t want to lose a moment more.” 

“Magnus, we have to be careful—“

“And we will be, Cat. But I will do whatever it takes to get my husband back.”

“That, I believe.” Catarina set him with a stern look. Magnus could read her like a book, though. She would help him no matter what happened. “Now how do we find him?”

Magnus waved her off. “We have three warlocks, a vampire, and an entire Institute at our disposal. He won’t be hard to track down.”

Three hours later — with the sunlight peeking over the horizon at four incredibly sleep-deprived beings — they were no closer to finding Alec. 

“I don’t understand,” Magnus growled as he massaged his temples. “Tracking a fledgling warlock should not be this complicated.”

“You said he saw Maxie and ran, right?” Madzie reasoned from across the room. She had her head in four books at once, flipping through them carefully. “He was probably spooked. Might not even be staying in the same place for very long.”

Magnus shook his head. “No, his signature would be popping up in small traces each time he resurfaced. He must have a safe house, somewhere he can completely disappear.”

“He’s scared,” Izzy agreed. “He would go to ground, somewhere he knows like the back of his hand.”

“You’re all forgetting that this isn’t Alec,” Catarina cut in. “He’s a young warlock, obviously hiding from something. And seeing as the centuries-old warlocks can’t even seem to find him, these are not wards he put up overnight to hide from Max.” There was a question there, one they were all thinking, and it set Magnus’ teeth on edge. 

What — or _who_ — was Alec hiding from that had made him build his fortress?

That got Magnus thinking. “It’s somewhere he’s been building up for awhile. Max saw him at a market in Barcelona, so he might still be nearby.”

“He made a portal, he could be anywhere in the world.”

“He was shopping,” Madzie pointed out to her mother. “Isn’t that what you said, Magnus?”

Magnus snapped in her direction. “Great thinking, sweetpea! He wouldn’t be shopping at a market unless he lived nearby.” Magnus’ mind started racing. “But he didn’t say Barcelona exactly, he said—” Magnus’ heart stopped.

_Remember our honeymoon?_

“Magnus?”

_How could I forget? I still don’t think that was a nude beach._

“Magnus, what’s wrong?”

_A small cottage overlooking waves on a beach. An outdoor market on a Sunday afternoon. Alec, his head thrown back in laughter as Magnus commented on an unfortunate-looking carrot._

“He said it was a town _outside_ of Barcelona,” Magnus said as he finally found his voice. 

“What are you thinking?” Isabelle asked, and Magnus looked up to find her in front of him, hands steadying him by his arms. He hadn’t even noticed her move.

Memory is a funny thing.

“Sitges,” Magnus whispered. “He’s in Sitges.”

* * *

They’d had a fight about when to portal to Sitges, and Cat had won. She’d had to force a sleeping potion down his throat, but Magnus ultimately knew she was right. Japan was eight hours ahead of Spain, so it made no sense to organize what amounted to an ambush in the middle of the night while all of them were running on fumes.

Magnus had reluctantly taken the sleeping potion and passed out for the agreed-upon six hours. Madzie went back to relay news to Simon and the New York Institute — now run by AJ Herondale’s daughter, Jocelyn — which left Cat, Magnus, and Isabelle to bring Alec home.

 _I must stop thinking of him as Alec,_ Magnus thought to himself as they stepped through the portal, landing on a rocky peninsula overlooking the ocean. The salty air stung his lungs but the memories it brought back were even more overwhelming.

To anyone without the Sight, the cottage looked like a rundown mess. Even Magnus had to blink twice to see through the heavy wards surrounding the property. 

“We shouldn’t linger,” Catarina called above the roar of the ocean. “The moment you bring those wards down, his location will be revealed to whatever he’s hiding from.”

“I’ll be as fast as I can.”

“Magnus,” Catarina hesitated, giving him a worried look. “You know what he’s likely hiding from.” Her tone was not questioning — they both knew what could force a young, powerful and frightened warlock into hiding.

Magnus’ jaw tightened. “I know, Cat. I’ll be careful.”

The pointed look she gave him told him exactly what she thought of that. “Just hurry.”

Magnus nodded tightly and approached the cottage. He felt Catarina throw up her own wards around the existing ones. They wouldn’t do much in the great scheme of things, but they would provide enough protection to buy Magnus some time.

Hopefully it would be _enough_ time.

* * *

When Magnus was finally at the door, he stood there dumbly, at a loss for what to do. Knock? No, that was silly, the warlock likely knew he was close. Magnus’ magical signature wasn’t exactly subtle, and this warlock was obviously on high alert. 

No, Magnus knew there was only one way to enter another warlock’s territory — with a bang.

So Magnus took a breath and entered the cottage with a sharp push of magic, strong and targeted enough to break through a small section of the wards. 

He immediately had to duck as a _bolt_ of responding magic hurdled toward him. 

“I suppose I asked for that,” he drawled and called his magic to his hands. 

The warlock standing on the other side of the cottage was ready for another attack. He held the purple magic in his hands like... like he was drawing a bow and arrow. It became very obvious that the bolt that had sailed past Magnus had been an arrow — 

An arrow of _magic_.

“The first one was a warning.” There it was. The voice that still haunted Magnus’ dreams. 

Magnus held up his hands, free of magic, and fully took in the being in front of him. 

It was Alec. There was no doubt about that. He didn’t just _resemble_ Alec, like a descendent or something that nature had tweaked ever so slightly. He was identical. He’d stopped aging in his early twenties, around the exact age that Magnus had first met him. It was impossible. All of it. But here was his husband. Wild-eyed and alive and —

— releasing another arrow aimed straight at Magnus’ face. 

Magnus’ power shot up to shield him reflexively. A shudder went through him as he manipulated it, and Magnus only had a moment to acknowledge how familiar the magic was — the _kinship_ they apparently shared. Magnus chose to put that aside for the time being, especially because the other warlock was seconds away from launching another attack. Magnus took the foreign magic and shot it back to its originator. He held it back at the very last second, stopping it inches from the other’s throat. 

They were both still and silent for a moment, breathing heavily with exertion. Looking into those eyes, Magnus had to remind himself that no, this was not his husband. This was a young, frightened, _powerful_ warlock, and Magnus had just barged into his territory unannounced. 

He let the magic go and took a step back. “Forgive me. I should have...knocked or something,” he apologized awkwardly. 

“Why are you here?” Alec’s voice demanded and Magnus _really_ had to stop thinking of him as Alec. This warlock was his own person — he’d lived his own life already. There were a thousand reasons Magnus should just leave and let him continue on with it. 

But he had to try. 

“My name is—“

“Answer the question.” There was something in the warlock’s eyes that made Magnus pay attention — _recognition_?

“You know me,” Magnus stated, and the way the warlock shifted uncomfortably meant Magnus had gotten it in one. “How do you know me, Alec?”

“That’s not my name.” 

“But it was,” Magnus pressed, slowly advancing forward. “Your name was Alec Lightwood-Bane. But you knew that, didn’t you?”

The warlock swallowed around nothing and shifted his eyes nervously. Still, he answered, “I prefer Alexander.”

He sounded so small, so vulnerable. Magnus felt like his heart would break out of his chest. “Of course you do,” he muttered with a dry smile. Hope burned within him, and he took another step. 

“How did you find me?” Alexander asked. “My wards should make it impossible to use a tracking spell.”

“Oh, they did,” Magnus assured him. There was a reason Alexander had hid himself so well, and hopefully Magnus could keep him in one place long enough to find out why. “But I didn’t need a tracking spell to find you. Once I knew you were in Sitges, there was no doubt you’d be here. At this beach.”

When Alexander frowned, Magnus explained, “We had our honeymoon on this beach. Alec and I,” he added as Alexander opened his mouth to correct him. 

“I’m not him,” Alexander insisted, and Magnus thought he sounded... defeated.

Magnus took a steadying breath. “You do know me, don’t you, Alexander?”

Alexander’s eyelids fluttered when Magnus said his name. It took Magnus’ breath away. 

“I see you every time I close my eyes,” he admitted, like he was reluctant to say the words. “In my dreams, we’re usually in this gaudy loft in Brooklyn.”

Alexander’s words forced a choked laugh from Magnus. “Tell me how you really feel, darling.” 

“You call me that all the time.” 

Magnus had moved close enough to see that Alexander was blushing now, and oh how Magnus had missed seeing him flustered. He _remembered_. Those were memories, they had to be. It made Magnus cling to the hope that his Alexander was still in there somewhere. 

“I’ve spent my whole life with those memories.” The raw pain and confusion in those words made Magnus stop, pinned by Alexander’s unsettled stare. “ _His_ memories. I’ve spent so much energy trying to diverge my life from his, trying not to make his mistakes or compare his victories to mine.” He sounded so lost, but then he gave a chagrined smile and shrugged. “And after all that running, after trying _so hard_ to be my own person, I still managed to end up right here. In front of you. Like... destiny, I guess.”

Magnus stood there, shocked. Incredible. 

Somewhere down the line, perhaps for his whole life, this warlock had compared himself to a dream version he hadn’t even known was real. It was all so intrinsically Alec that it made Magnus even more hopeful that he could somehow awaken that part of his husband. 

But that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Magnus took a moment and leaned against a table in the room just a little further away from Alexander.

“I won’t lie to you and tell you I want you to be your own person, because I don’t.” He couldn’t look at Alexander as he said the words. “I want my husband back. I want my son to have his parents back. I want to be whole again, because he took something of me with him when he died that day. I’m so close to getting him back.” 

He finally turned to look at Alexander. “But Alexander — _my_ Alexander — he would want you to have a choice. This shouldn’t...This shouldn’t be your destiny, if you don’t want it.”

“That’s not — I’m not saying this right.” Alexander paused, gathering his words. “My mother — my _human_ mother... She loved me. I always knew what I was from the beginning. When my Mark manifested, she was there. I had so many questions and she answered them all. I don’t know how she did it, but...I was happy. _We_ were happy.” Alexander swallowed harshly, the pain evident in his voice. “But I still had those dreams. And I knew...I just knew someone had...loved this person. Loved me, and it was...overwhelming. Because I felt it, too.” 

Magnus was frozen where he stood, staring at Alexander’s face. When he finally lifted those beautiful hazel eyes, Magnus could see the resolve in them. 

“I wanted it,” he whispered. “I wanted you, more than I could ever admit to myself and now that you’re just... standing here in front of me...” Alexander’s jaw clenched and unclenched as he worked through his words, and all Magnus could do was stare at him. “I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.”

Magnus took in a shaky breath. “Alexander...if you’re sure—“

“I know this is bigger than me and I know I should want to do the right thing because it’s the right thing, but... I’m being selfish because I just want you and I want...the family that we had and that loft in Brooklyn with the stupid paint color—“

Magnus was so frozen with shock that he didn’t even acknowledge the insult to his loft. He could only offer a rough huff of laughter. 

“How is it,” he started, his voice raw and thick, “that even when you’re sacrificing the only life you know, you still think you’re being selfish?”

Alexander gave a rueful smile and shrugged. “I may not know all of the details of that life I see in my dreams but... you’re there. I said it before and I meant it. Every step I’ve taken, knowingly or not, has led me straight to you. Or, you know, you to me,” he fumbled, and Magnus fell in love with him all over again. Alexander looked at him with those big hazel eyes. “I feel like I was _made_ for you.”

Magnus didn’t know whether he wanted to break down and cry or laugh, so he just settled for a watery smile. “I always thought so.”

The distance still yawned between them. Despite everything Alexander had said, Magnus hesitated to move closer to him. Alexander must have sensed it. 

“It’s funny,” he started timidly even as he lowered his guard and relaxed in his place against the wall. “In the dreams, I always wake up before I can say your name. It’s like being underwater. I know it, but I... I never remember it when I wake up.”

Magnus hummed. “Is that why you didn’t want to know my name before?”

Alexander ducked his head and nodded. “This doesn’t feel real. I thought... I thought you might be a trick or an illusion,” he confessed. “I guess you’ve put it together but... I’m kind of hiding from someone.”

“Yes, darling, I gathered that from the truly exhausting amount of wards you’ve put on this poor little house.”

Alexander blushed and Magnus was quick to settle him. “You don’t have to tell me who it is. I won’t push.”

Alexander gave him an incredulous look. “You’re just saying that because I’ll tell you when I get my memories back.”

Magnus fought and failed to keep the smile off his face. “You caught me, darling.” He held out a hand to Alexander, and the other warlock eyed it curiously. They were both thinking the same thing. Touch would probably be the quickest and surest way for Alec’s memories to return. 

_If_ they returned. 

The thought soured something inside him, and Magnus almost let his hand drop. But determination filled Alexander’s face, and he reached out to twine Magnus’ fingers in his own. Alexander shuddered when their skin touched, and Magnus took that as a sign of encouragement and closed the distance between them. 

“Anything?” He asked. 

Alexander shook his head, gritting his teeth. “Just the things I remember from dreams.”

“Let’s start there then,” Magnus encouraged, pulling him closer. He carefully telegraphed his movements as he cupped Alexander’s face in his hands. 

Alexander’s eyelids fluttered closed at the touch. “There’s a Shadowhunter boy — shy, but...he loves us.”

“Rafael,” Magnus explained. “He was our second. We adopted him when he was nine.” Magnus hesitated, but chose to continue. “He was mortal. He passed a few decades ago.”

Alexander’s forehead crinkled, and he made a mournful sound. “I’m so sorry.”

“He lived a long, happy life.”

“No, I mean I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

Magnus was thankful Alexander’s eyes were still closed. He’d frozen again, waiting on bated breath for something to happen — maybe a neon sign that said Alec’s memories had returned — but nothing came.

“Tell me more, darling.”

“I remember a blue-skinned warlock baby — so young and small…” Alexander’s lips curled into a smile. “I remember your eyes.” He took a deep breath. “Your _real_ eyes. They made me feel better about mine. No matter how conflicted I was about that other me...your eyes always made me feel like... like someone might still find mine beautiful.”

It suddenly occurred to Magnus that Alexander was talking about his own warlock Mark. 

“I’d love to see them. Your real eyes.” Magnus could feel Alexander tense slightly, so he added, “Whenever you’re comfortable. It doesn’t have to be now.” Cruel as it was, they had time. Memories seemed to be floating at the surface of Alexander’s mind, but they truly had no idea when he would regain the rest of his memories. Or if. 

“I feel like I should show you now, while I’m still me,” Alexander said, almost like he could feel what Magnus was thinking. “So you can get used to them. They’re...a lot for some people. I wouldn’t blame you if you...didn’t react well.”

“Alexander,” Magnus said firmly. “I have always loved every part of you. This is who you are. They’re you. And I will always love every part of you.” 

Alexander’s lips twitched with a slight smile. “I think I told you that once.”

“You did.” Magnus let his own glamour drop as he stroked his thumbs along Alexander’s jawline. “Open your eyes for me, darling.” Alexander shuddered against him and slowly opened his eyes. 

Magnus was in awe. They were green and yellow, gold and emerald, with familiar vertical slits that were more reptilian than Magnus’ feline.

Crocodile eyes. These were a predator’s eyes. They marked him as something deadly—and powerful.

“They’re perfect,” Magnus murmured. “ _Y_ _ou_ are perfect in every way, Alexander.”

Alexander’s smile wavered at the edges. “I should have known you’d surprise me. You always do.”

“I hope I never stop surprising you, my love. Now tell me what else you remember.”

Alexander made a frustrated sound. “This isn’t going to work.” He tried to look away, but Magnus’ hands cupping his face held him fast.

“Stop running,” Magnus said, and Alexander stared at him, crocodile eyes wide and vulnerable. Magnus had a moment to regret sounding so harsh, but what he saw in those eyes — fear, yes, but also _hope_ — made him keep going. “You’re running from someone but, Alexander, you _never_ have to run from me.”

“It’s a Greater Demon,” he blurted out. “A _Prince of Hell._ They’re my _sire_ , and —“

“I _know_ , darling.” Magnus stroked the angles of Alexander’s face until the warlock stilled. His eyes were questioning, filled with fear. “If there’s one thing I understand most in this world, it’s running from a demonic parent and all the baggage they bring with them. It’s no wonder you were in hiding.”

He let out a soft pulse of his magic, and he felt Alexander’s own respond in kind. They were connected by blood — and by magic. It was why the magic had felt so familiar when Magnus first held it in his hands.

“We will _figure it out_ , Alexander,” Magnus insisted, his resolve apparent. “I’m not leaving you. You never have to be alone again, do you understand me?”

Magnus saw the fear disappear from those beautiful eyes, and he only had a moment to recognize the determination that replaced it. Alexander practically lunged at him, closing the distance between them in an instant, and suddenly their lips met in a harsh, sloppy, _perfect_ kiss. 

Magnus’ brain immediately went offline. Gone were all the reasons he had for not kissing Alexander first — _he’s not Alec, you’re taking advantage of him_. There was just warmth, peace, and that familiar buzz under his skin that Magnus got when he kissed his husband.

When they finally parted and Magnus opened his eyes, he pressed his forehead to Alexander’s. They just breathed together, savoring the simplicity of this moment. 

“I remember the taste of you,” Alexander said. His voice was hoarse, and Magnus could feel him trembling. “Hot like blue fire, but you just…” He shivered, panting and out of breath. 

Magnus frowned and tightened his hands around Alexander’s waist where they’d drifted. “Alexander, is something wrong?”

“Your smell,” Alexander continued, like Magnus hadn’t said a word. “Gods, Magnus, I remember your smell —“ his eyes flew open and —

Time stopped. Magnus could barely breathe. 

“ _Magnus_.”

He whispered it like a prayer. Magnus only had a moment to process before the other warlock went rigid in Magnus’ arms, eyes rolling back into his head.

Magnus shouted.

He managed to catch Alexander and maneuver them to their knees. Alexander was still conscious, barely clinging to Magnus to keep himself upright. Magnus kept saying his name, cupped his face to help ground him.

After what seemed like an eternity, Alexander’s eyes blinked open and this time, they were back to hazel. Magnus heaved a sigh of relief. “Alexander?”

The other warlock snapped his gaze to meet Magnus’. Recognition bloomed, and his face split with a wide smile. “ _Magnus_ ,” he said again, tears filling his eyes.

Magnus felt himself shaking, hoping against hope that what he saw in those eyes was real. “Alec?” he whispered, sick with anxiety and trepidation.

“It’s me,” was the immediate response, and Alec — because _fuck_ , _it_ _was Alec_ — Alec straightened under his own power and brought his hands to Magnus’ face. “Magnus, it’s me.”

Magnus crumbled.

He sobbed, letting the tears flow freely as he clung to his husband — _his husband._ Alec held him as he let decades of sorrow, anger, and spite melt away like ice in a desert. “ _My_ Alexander,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at his husband — but not enough to put any space between them. No, there would never be any space between them ever again if Magnus had his way. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Alec nodded sadly. “You did, for a few years there. But Magnus, _you found me._ ” His expression hardened with determination. “I’ll never leave you again, I promise.”

“Oh, I’m never leaving your side again,” Magnus vowed. “Dinners, showers, sparring, you name it,” Magnus quipped, even through his tears. Alec chuckled and brought him in for another desperate kiss. He reared back after a moment with a wince, and Magnus was on full alert again. “Alec?”

“It’s nothing,” Alec reassured him. “It’s just my memories. I keep...remembering things when we…” he trailed off with a blush.

The realization came to Magnus slowly. “So you’re saying...true love’s kiss brought back your memories?”

Alec made an embarrassed noise, and Magnus almost split in two with glee. 

“I suppose I’ll have to keep kissing you then,” Magnus replied with a smirk that said just what he thought of that plan.

“Magnus, wait,” Alec stopped him from stealing another, and his face was serious enough that Magnus sobered. “I just…” Alec hesitated, obviously conflicted. “There are things you don’t know about…about _this_ me.” 

Magnus settled back on his thighs, staring up at Alec with no less devotion than he’d ever given his husband. “Then you can tell me,” he said easily. When Alec looked positively green at the thought, Magnus added, “When you’re ready.” He reached out and grasped Alec’s hands in his own. “Alexander, you are the love of my immortal life. When you died, I…” he sighed and shook his head in shame. “I did things — unspeakable things — in your name.”

Alec scoffed. “If you’re talking about decimating the Clave, they assassinated me first, so I think you get a pass on that.”

“Joking aside,” Magnus said pointedly. “We’ve been through many things since we’ve been apart, and we can talk about it if and when we’re ready.” He squeezed Alec’s hands and offered a small smile. “We have the time, my love.”

Alec brought Magnus’ hands up to his lips and laid a reverent kiss over his knuckles. “I knew you’d come for me,” he whispered. “I just knew.”

“A thousand years — a million lifetimes — it doesn’t matter,” Magnus agreed. “I’d still find you.”

Alec gave him a watery smile and pulled him in for a kiss. He gasped when their lips touched again, and Magnus smiled against him. “Tell me what you remember,” he said, a bit of mischief reaching his eyes.

Alec blushed again, but he didn’t shy away. “This beach,” he confessed. “The _first_ time we were here.”

Magnus’ smile became a full-fledged grin. “Oh, this will be _magnificent_.” He captured Alec’s lips again and swallowed his soft noises of surprise and contentment. 

* * *

Memory is a funny thing.

Alec’s memory of his past life came back in pieces.

He remembered Izzy as soon as he laid eyes on her. They collapsed together, each holding the other in a tight embrace. Izzy simultaneously cried and laughed in hysteria. She met Magnus’ stare over her brother’s shoulder. Magnus nodded at her, erasing what little doubt there might have been in her mind. 

Alec’s memories of Cat didn’t return until later. They’d gone back to Magnus’ flat in Kyoto. Simon joined them, and Alec remembered him, much to the vampire’s delight. Madzie arrived next, and it took almost an hour, but when she hugged him to leave, Alec’s grip on her tightened. Magnus saw the exact moment he realized who she was — the beautiful woman she’d grown into. Alec choked on her name, looked over at Catarina, said her name as well and then they were all crying again.

Magnus knew they were all reluctant to leave, but they did, all the same. After all, there was still one person Alec needed to see.

Magnus felt it when the portal opened. Alec was busy looking through his library, noting the different books and pulling some out to study further. He didn’t notice until he heard his name.

“Dad?”

Alec froze and turned.

Memory _was_ a funny thing.

Magnus knew that Alec hadn’t forgotten about Max — it was one of the latent memories he’d spoken of, after all. But Magnus also knew that Alec’s mind was overwhelmed. It had prioritized the memories of people in his immediate surroundings. Magnus wanted Alec to come to his memories in his own time, but that hadn’t stopped him from texting Max as soon as he was able.

Alec turned slowly, and Magnus saw him tense. Undoubtedly, his body remembered the panic he’d felt when he’d first seen Max that day in the outdoor market. Magnus was just about to intervene when Max dropped his glamour.

 _Smart little Blueberry,_ Magnus thought with a smile.

It made Alec pause and look harder at the other warlock. Then, he sagged. “Maxie.” He said it with such conviction that Max let out a ragged breath and they were suddenly in each others’ arms.

Magnus looked at the two, his heart full and aching at the same time. There was so much that Alec had missed, so much that he still didn’t know. That familiar shame tugged at Magnus again, the one that told him Alec would hate him for the things he’d done. But he pushed it aside. His heart was whole again. 

Whatever secrets Alec held, whatever Magnus needed to tell Alec about the years after his death, they could all wait. For now.

  
  
  


_fin_

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS:
> 
> Alec dies a gruesome death, but he's reincarnated as a warlock. #immortalhusbands 
> 
> Dies of old age: Maryse, Clary, Jace, Rafael Lightwood-Bane. Also other minor characters.
> 
> Isabelle technically dies, but she gets turned into a vampire because #reasons, aka i love izzy.
> 
> \----
> 
> Well ya'll, that's it. I have a (maybe, fingers-crossed) short coda planned. I never say who Alec's demon parent is, so I'll leave that a mystery for now. 
> 
> If you want, you can follow me on tumblr at [jeanboulet](https://jeanboulet.tumblr.com/). I yell a lot there. Love you all!


End file.
